


Shadow of the Tiger

by emmykay



Category: Tiger & Bunny
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Friendship, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Minor Violence, Original Character(s), Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-12
Updated: 2015-01-12
Packaged: 2018-03-06 18:02:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3143543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmykay/pseuds/emmykay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU where Kotetsu dies and gets reincarnated.  20 years later, Barnaby is President of Hero Academy.  He meets a  man that very much reminds him of a certain someone.  Reincarnated!Kotetsu.  Contains: discussions of death</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shadow of the Tiger

**Author's Note:**

> [ Full prompt](http://t-and-b-anon.dreamwidth.org/1910.html?thread=3300726#cmt3300726) from the Tiger and Bunny kink meme. In writing this, some changes from the prompt did occur, and some characterization differences had to be addressed with the reincarnation.

  
_When it`s been ten years, even the rivers and mountains change._ -Korean proverb

* * *

"No, Agnes. I'm not interested." 

Sitting in a rickety wooden chair that was likely saved for 'special' guests like herself, Agnes Joubert watched Barnaby Brooks, Jr. from across his large desk. He sat neatly in his sleek back executive chair and sipped the tea from his cup. He turned his head to look out the window where a number of young people in matching athletic gear marked "Hero Academy" stumbled across an obstacle course in front of the half-constructed shell of a new stadium.

"Now, now, Barnaby. There hasn't been the same interest in HeroTV since you've left."

"It's been nearly ten years," he said, bored. "Since you've been made CEO, I've noticed some interesting heroes and promotions. Surely you can't mean those haven't helped ratings."

"We've tried, but nothing we came up with could ever top what happened with Maverick and Wild Tiger - 

"That's too bad." Barnaby interrupted, moving from politeness to frigidity. "Perhaps adopting and brainwashing a NEXT is a long term project beyond the scope of the network sweeps."

Agnes blanched, but rallied quickly, "We've changed formats and management - "

"Yes, I know," he said.

She gestured about the sparsely decorated office they sat in and then outside to the students. Agnes caught herself before she gestured too broadly and caused herself to tip over on the rickety guest chair. Oh no, this chair was not a mistake. It was more a message. "Look, you're the president of Hero Academy now - maybe there's some up and coming NEXT you could recommend for the next season."

"I'll have to ask some of the instructors."

"How about providing some commentary on the show? Some other heroes have been very good with that -"

"I'll get back to you," his tone contrary to his words.

She pushed. "There's an anniversary special coming up. I think it's time you came back. Just for that."

"Your secretary sent the information already." Barnaby turned halfway away from Agnes and picked up his phone, idly checking his messages.

Agnes stood and slung her enormous portfolio bag over her shoulder. She placed her hand over his phone, covering the screen. "Just think about it."

He looked up at her, cold light bouncing off the lenses of his glasses, hiding his eyes. 

"Still unchanged after all these years," Agnes mused. "You look the same - tall, thin, hot. Hell, you probably still wear the same glasses as you did then. The old fangirls will come out in droves." She reached up to touch his temples. "This is the only difference - this fading here. Even that is gorgeous. I'll bet you make a bunch of new fans, who love the more mature look." 

He gave a small jerk away from her hand. "You know your way out," he said, rising to his full height.

Knowing a good line, even if it wasn't hers, Agnes left. It was a pity. A waste of perfectly good talent. Barnaby was still beautiful, still stubborn, still alone, still a NEXT, twenty years after Maverick. She amended the thought. One thing was different. He was a little less polite.

* * *

Barnaby stood at the window of his office, staring out across the grounds of the academy as the sky darkened into night. He should be used to Agnes and her schemes - all those years of corporate entertainment had made her even more aggressive. Now, with the full power of the network behind her, she would do almost anything to get the ratings up.

He wasn't going to help her. Almost all of the NEXT he had in the academy were unsuitable for broadcast. Not only were their powers small or hilariously useless, they weren't going to fit into Agnes' shark-like need for looks and personality. He'd been through the meat grinder and he wasn't interested in feeding these decent kids to the great maw of entertainment. Sure, there were always one or two a year that made it to the First League, and some others that made it to the Second League, but most of them got out with a good education, some useful life skills, and their self-esteem intact.

He had stayed with HeroTV for a number of years after the Maverick incident, but Agnes was right. It was never the same after. Even after time and new programming had covered the bad publicity of that had come out at the time. Slowly, the old Heroes had retired and gone on to other pursuits.

After retiring, he'd drifted for a few years. He had plenty of money, plenty of time to devote to a variety of diversions, but something felt missing. When he'd been offered a position at the academy, he'd jumped on it. His favorite time in his life was at the academy. Never mind the fan club - it was the camaraderie, the sense of not being quite so singular. The only other time he could think of was when he was paired up with Kotetsu. It'd been something like friendship, but more. He couldn't find words for it, even now. Partners, maybe. He had changed because of the Old Man - he wouldn't have taken this job before knowing Kotetsu.

Barnaby didn't think of Kotetsu very often. Not anymore. It had been two decades since he died. But things still came up that reminded him. The swagger of a young person, or a voice heard at some party, or a squabble between a father and a daughter on the street.

Something flickered in the corner of his vision. _What is this?_

A glowing blue figure ran across the grounds, holding a cap to its head, leaping over obstacles as easily as if it were suspended from overhead. That figure wasn't wearing the academy uniform, didn't look familiar in any way. Barnaby frowned. The academy had a curfew and a strictly enforced no-trespass policy in force after dark. Barnaby opened a window and yelled, "Get off the lawn!"

The figure turned his head, and Barnaby saw the white gleam of a wide smile in a youthful, brown-skinned face. "Come and make me, old man!" 

Fueled by he-didn't-know-what, Barnaby lept out of the window and ran toward the kid, turning on his power as he did so.

As the gap between them narrowed, the kid's golden-brown eyes widened. Then he had the temerity to laugh as he sped away.

* * *

Barnaby cursed. Loudly and with great fluency. In several languages. He had lost sight of the little snot just a few minutes into the chase. Somewhere in the maze of streets a mile outside of the academy, the kid had disappeared. At the beginning, the kid had whooped, alerting Barnaby to his location, but he had stopped once he realized how serious the chase was getting. Barnaby could have sworn he knew every street around here - but the kid had made a turn and just vanished.

Barnaby stopped and turned off his power. With a sigh, he headed back to the academy. 

Damn, he thought. _That kid was fast._

* * *

Two days later, the kid was back. He had to be a NEXT, Barnaby thought, calculating as he chased the kid across academy grounds and into the new stadium construction. Was it speed? Barnaby had seen a couple of NEXT with super speed. How long would that power last?

And then the kid jumped several stories, grabbed onto a rope that hung off pipe far overhead, swung himself up into the air, landing with a solid thud up against the concrete half-shell of the stadium. With a cocky grin, he tipped his cap toward Barnaby, revealing midnight black hair shorn short.

"Thanks for the fun, old man!" he said, and then fell off the shell.

Barnaby gasped, blood roaring in his ears. Nobody could have survived a fall like that. He raced over to the spot where he thought the kid would have landed. There was nothing and nobody there. He jumped to the roof. Nothing. Nobody.

He peered over the edge and saw ropes and an unfinished section of construction where the rope could have reached. He grabbed the rope and rappelled down. At the end of the rope, he lept, grabbing hold of the ledge. He found himself on the edge of a nearly completely corridor, at the end of which was one of the ever-present housekeeping carts.

Barnaby put his hand over his sternum, feeling the rapid beat of his heart. In his mind, he played the movie of the kid swinging on the rope over and over. He knew that move. He had seen that move many times before, performed by a man in a green and white mecha-suit. With a similar joy in movement, and a similar feline grin.

A strange, tight, ache began in his chest. 

It couldn't be. _Could it?_

_No. No. NO._

It wasn't. It was not.

And that ache? Middle-aged esophageal reflux was a bitch.

* * *

"Huh," said Nathan. He stretched out on his office couch across from Barnaby. The years had been kind to Nathan. Whether it was through natural or artificial means, Nathan was in great shape. Only his hands, with their thinner skin and larger knuckles, displayed any signs of aging whatsoever. He had, for reasons not having to do with age (he insisted), gone from pink to platinum blond.

Barnaby accepted coffee from the latest of Nathan's impossibly attractive administrative assistants, politely, but without a second glance.

"Sounds like there's something weird going on, Handsome," Nathan said. He stirred his coffee thoughtfully. Delicately, he said, "When's the last time you've been to a doctor?" 

"This isn't a figment of my imagination, Nathan," Barnaby said. "I go to a psychologist regularly and they keep saying I'm fine. There will always be some remnant of memory problems because of Maverick, but any and all new memories are definitely mine. I don't have problems in that area. They even suggested that maybe I don't need to come anymore."

Nathan crossed one long elegant leg over the other. "Let's go with all the possibilities if it's not all in your head. One; someone is playing a trick on you."

Barnaby frowned. "Someone who sort of looks like Kotetsu, with super strength and agility and speed. Why go to the effort without making sure he looks like Wild Tiger?"

"Possibility two: a larger conspiracy."

"I don't believe that. Ouroboros has been broken up effectively in the years after Maverick died. Sure, there are outbreaks occasionally. But we, and the heros who have come after us, have handled it. As for pranking me, what sense does that make?"

Nathan nodded. He leaned forward, touching Barnaby's leg. Barnaby shifted away, gracefully, unconsciously. Nathan continued, "You said you were thinking about Kotetsu when you saw him. Are you sure you're not overtired? Or just seeing things?"

"No. That kid has shown up three times already. Do you have a third possibility?"

Nathan gave a trim little shrug. "Not really. Not unless you count reincarnation."

"You know," Barnaby said, "I wouldn't mind the reincarnation explanation, except for the kid acting like a cocky little shit bent on wreaking havoc with my peace of mind."

Nathan smiled. "Aren't you the one that's been around twenty-year-olds for the last couple of years?" He looked thoughtful. "Is any of this possibly guilt?"

Harshly, Barnaby said, "Because I shot at my partner when he asked me to? And I killed him?" He shifted, his eyes dark and anguished in his pale face. "Of all my memories, I am certain that one is real and I am certain that would be the one I want to be gone. I know what I did."

"He did ask you to." Nathan leaned forward, almost but not touching Barnaby. "You saved Sternbild because of what you did."

Barnaby made a helpless gesture. "What would you have done?"

Nathan shrugged. "I don't know. Would you have done anything different?"

"I just wish he'd told me about his power fading earlier. I wish we had talked more. About everything."

"You certain this isn't wish fulfillment?"

"Hysterical wish fulfillment? If only it was that simple." Barnaby looked wry. "Then at least it would all just be in my head. This is different."

"Well, you're the one seeing some kid jumping around like Wild Tiger. You should know."

* * *

  
_If you talk about the tiger, the tiger will appear._ \- Korean proverb

* * *

"This is ridiculous," Nathan whispered, crouching up against the window. "Why are we in your office in the dark looking out the window again?"

"This is the only time he's ever shown up," whisper-replied Barnaby, intently scanning the horizon.

"Nobody's going to show up," Nathan muttered. "The weather is miserable - it's raining out there. Do you see it?"

"He's going to show."

"I'm leaving," Nathan announced, stretched out one leg and then another. "I'm starting to cramp up."

Off to the distance, there was the bump and rattle of a plastic-sounding cart.

"What's that?" Nathan asked, clutching Barnaby's arm.

"Housekeeping," Barnaby said. "Pay attention to the outside, please."

"Are you sure?" The doorknob shook.

"Don't worry about that. I locked the door," Barnaby said.

"You did? I can think of many other things that can be done in the dark, in a head-master's office, with that great big desk, between two gorgeous men in the prime of their lives - "

"Nathan!" hissed Barnaby.

"What a wasted opportunity." Nathan sighed. "All of this for some fool kid who's probably not going to show up."

Behind them, the door opened, the small wedge of light flooding the room with light. They turned, the fluorescent light harsh on their faces. 

"Oh, sorry, sirs - I didn't know anybody was in here - " The housekeeper began, and there, under the plain blue cleaner's cap, Barnaby saw horror and panic in the brown-gold eyes he'd know in this life and any other. "I'll come back later."

"Wait!" Barnaby surged up and chased.

"Well," said Nathan to the empty air. "I didn't see this coming." He dusted himself off, picked up an umbrella, and followed the two outside. He was interested in seeing how it all played out.

* * *

It was a great chase - Nathan saw the blue streaks all over campus. He had decided to hang back, save his strength for when it was needed.

It's a good thing Barnaby can only last five minutes, Nathan thought. He should be smart enough to remember that. Regardless, Barnaby had a good eye. That kid didn't really look like Kotetsu, the face was too square, cheekbones too prominent, the body too short, but he was still quite attractive. 

It was indeed a good chase. At the end, the kid went for the top of the half-constructed stadium shell. It was there that Nathan thought Barnaby had the kid. Then the kid just disappeared. Barnaby grabbed the rope, but something went wrong. The wind picked Barnaby up, just like a loose sheet of paper, and flung him in the air and then up against the concrete wall of the stadium. His glasses became dislodged. 

Barnaby was struggling, kicking out toward the air, spinning on the end of the rope. Nathan ran to the wall, unable to hear what Barnaby was saying through the rain and wind. Nathan stood with his heart in his mouth as Barnaby's grip slipped part way down the rope. How long did Barnaby have left? 

The kid popped back up, shouting something at Barnaby. Barnaby let go of the rope, falling freely. The kid jumped, snatching Barnaby out of the air, cradling him in his arms as they dropped down to the earth.

The blue glow left the kid just before he hit the ground, so he fell with a thud, his leg awkwardly held out. Barnaby rolled out of his arms and into the mud.

Nathan ran toward them. The kid flung up his head, staring at Nathan in a panic. "I'm sorry! I - "

"It's okay," Nathan said.

"Take care of him." Gently laying his burden on the damp ground, the kid limped off, in a hurry.

"Barnaby - Handsome - !" Nathan gently shook Barnaby's arm.

Barnaby groaned, and then jerked his head to look around. "Where's the kid?" 

Nathan gestured out toward the academy grounds. "Out there, somewhere." As Barnaby got up, Nathan put his foot down. "You are not getting up and running after him."

"Then you do it!"

"No," Nathan said, calmly.

Barnaby was livid. "How could you let him go? All that chathing - !"

"You are going to the doctor! You got your head beat against a concrete wall." 

"Under my nose the whole time - "

"Calm down, Handsome," Nathan advised. "Why don't I get your glasses and then we go inside?" 

Barnaby paused, taking several calming breaths. He pieced things together as he spoke. "If the kid is actually on the housekeeping staff, it would explain his overalls, and how he knew so much about the area, and how he could lose me, even here, a place I know like the back of my hand."

Nathan said, "It's pretty simple what you need to do, if you're that curious."

"Of course." The kid had hurt his leg, if he hadn't sprained it outright. Barnaby said, "I just have to wait to see who among the staff calls in sick tomorrow morning."

* * *

  
_If you want catch a tiger, you have to go to the tiger’s cave._ -Korean proverb

* * *

 

Barnaby stood at the beat-up door of a long stairwell, a long subway ride away and two levels down from the cushy environs of the academy and his own home. The kid's neighborhood of Asiatown consisted of squat, older, multi-family houses that sat on top of a variety of small businesses, greengrocers, tiny restaurants, hardware, hairdressers, florists. 

The list of names on intercom read, "H. Lee, H. Lee, T. Lee, Park, Im, J. Lee, Kim, Callahan, H. Lee, K. Lee, Choe, J. Lee."

Barnaby Brooks, Jr. had gone this far down to the Bronze level in Sternbild. The list was not an impediment at all. He would ring every single one if he had to. He rang the bell for the first H. Lee.

Through the intercom, a high-pitched voice shouted incomprehensible syllables in rapid succession. 

"Excuse me," he said. "I'm looking for Hochuel T. Lee."

The voice asked, "Hochuel-ee?" Another voice, deeper, asked, "Hochuel?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"It's about his job." There was an uncomfortably long silence. 

Through the intercom, the deep voice spoke in long-suffering tones. "Is he fired again?"

Barnaby said, "No, no. Not at all. He's going to get a raise."

The lock buzzed and Barnaby entered.

At the top of the stairwell, a door opened, and an attractive woman stepped out, holding the hand of a young child. An old woman hovered near the door.

The younger woman asked in a familiar deep voice, "You looking for Hochuel?"

"Yes," Barnaby said. "Are you Hochuel's -?"

"I'm one of his sisters, Hye-chuel." She gestured to the old woman. "This is our grandmother. Follow me. Is this really for a raise?"

Barnaby nodded. "I'm the president of Hero Academy." Then, he smiled, charmingly. 

Hye-chuel, helplessly, smiled back. The grandmother's hand fluttered up to pat her hair. "I'm sorry for doubting you. You see," she said, apologetically, "he's gotten into some trouble in the past. Ever since he started senior high, he gets these fits. He's been working on controlling the blue glow - "

"Certainly, control is something every NEXT has to figure out for themselves."

"We don't have any others in the family," she said, looking down at the child walking next to her. 

"What kind of symptoms had he been displaying?"

"Well," she said, thinking, "lots of stuff gets broken, especially when he's upset. But it doesn't seem to last more than five minutes or so."

Three doors down (each of them labeled "Lee"), Hye-chuel grabbed the knob and pulled it open. "Hochuel!" The child ran to him.

"Noona - !" he whined. The culprit was sitting on a battered couch, TV on, with a gaming console in his hands. His bandaged and swollen ankle lay up on a chair. The child ran to him and sat in his lap, upsetting the console. 

"You got a guest," she said. Hochuel, caught in mid-hug with the toddler, peered around his sister and froze.

"I'm Barnaby Brooks, Jr.," Barnaby said, offering his hand.

The toddler looked at Barnaby and she gripped Hochuel tighter. "Mine," she said, her cute dark eyes and button nose quivering in suspicion.

"Oh, Barbie," Hochuel said, embarrassed.

Hye-chuel squealed. "I knew it! I was just thinking you looked familiar! I'm a big fan, from way back in the day! I have to get something for you to sign!" She grabbed Hochuel and gave his arm a fierce squeeze. "How could you not tell me your boss was Barnaby Brooks, Jr.?"

Hochuel looked perplexed. "Why would you care? He's just my boss?"

"He was the biggest, most popular Hero ever!!" A thought occurred to her. "I've got to tell everybody!" With a sharp look at Hochuel, she said, "You better be nice to your guest." Those words behind her, she bestowed a smitten glance upon Barnaby and then departed, child in tow.

"I'm sorry about what happened - " Hochuel rushed in to say. 

"About last night - " Barnaby began speaking. "It's okay," he said, when they both quieted down.

"Ah, ha, ha," Hochuel said, raising a hand to scrub at the back of his neck. He grinned, sheepishly. "Mr. Brooks." He gestured to his foot. "Sorry. I can't get up."

"Barnaby, please."

"Baahhnnyyy - " Hochuel began. He looked surprised at what had come out of his mouth. 

Something caught in Barnaby's throat at the way Hochuel drawled out his name. 

"Baahhnn - " Hochuel paused. "Mr. Brooks." He, suddenly, adorkably, began to blush. "Sorry. I don't know why I can't say your name." Barnaby found it much less cute when Hochuel said, "I think it's because you're so much older than me. It wouldn't be right. I think I would be more comfortable calling you 'Mr. Brooks.'"

Barnaby got right down to business. "Why haven't you applied to Hero Academy? I've seen your power - you're definitely a NEXT with great potential. Especially with the chases you've made run recently."

Hochuel looked embarrassed. "Awww, Mr. Brooks. Thanks, but, uh, I did apply. Last year."

"What happened?"

"I got rejected."

"Why?"

Hochuel shrugged. "I don't know. All I got was a letter saying that they weren't able to admit me. I guess maybe it was because my powers are still kind of wonky. But that's what I thought the Academy would help me with."

"Can you describe to me what you think your power is?"

Hochuel said, "I don't know. I've got tons of extra strength and speed and agility, but the amount of time I have it time changes a lot. Three minutes, and then eight minutes, and then two minutes. It's all over the place. I only started getting the power when I was the eleventh grade, so I still have problems with it."

"Why did you take a job with the housekeeping staff?"

"If I couldn't get into the academy, I thought maybe working there would help a little rub off. I just wanted to be near all the other NEXT." The tips of Hochuel's ears turned red. "Jeez, that sounds so stupid."

"So, what are your long term plans?"

"I really want to help people. Since the Hero Academy rejected me, I've applied for the Fire and Police academies. I'm just waiting to hear back." Hochuel's Adam's apple bobbed. "I'm real sorry about the chase, Mr. Brooks. It was just a lot of fun - I don't get to do that -"

"It's okay, Hochuel. I hope you're able to come back to work."

Hochuel looked nervous. "I won't be able to come back for a week or two. You sure?"

Barnaby nodded. "I'm sure."

"There he is!" Hye-chuel opened the door, behind her a mob of people were waiting, pens clutched in their hands.

"Geez, Noona!" Hochuel complained.

"Don't worry. We're not here for you," Hye-chuel said. She turned to Barnaby, her voice stinging. "Hochuel hasn't offered you anything to eat, has he?"

* * *

Lunch was in the back room of one of the restaurants Barnaby had passed on the way to Hochuel's apartment building. Hochuel protested when his sister handed the plates first to Barnaby and then passed by him to feed another sister. 

Hye-chuel laughed. "And growing up, he always wanted to be a tiger."

Barnaby inhaled something down the wrong pipe. He coughed. "A tiger?"

Hye-chuel nodded. "He had a tiger suit for Halloween one year - "

"- kindergarten - " 

"- he wore it everyday until he grew out of it. He said he was a wild tiger from the jungle and his magic power was his wild roar." Hye-chuel laughed.

Barnaby covered his reaction by taking off his glasses and wiping his eyes and then the lenses. "That's cute," he said.

Hochuel groaned. "Stop. Can we not talk about this now? He's my _boss._ "

* * *

When Barnaby got back from lunch with the Lee clan, he was stuffed to the gills, exhausted and a bit exhilarated. He was also deeply curious as to why Hochuel, who seemed a good kid and with definitely appropriate powers, wouldn't be admitted to the Academy. He wandered into Admissions and opened their files. Normally, he wouldn't bother, as most of the files were electronic, but he felt rejection might be more likely noted on paper.

And he was right. A few notes and smudgy photocopies sank Hochuel's career as a hero before it even began. 

Hochuel's high school record was, at best, mediocre. Besides this, his financials looked terrible. There wouldn't be any sponsor ready to pay for his expenses until the second term at the very earliest, when knowledge of his powers would be released to the advertising firms, should they ever stabilize. The worst though, was the hints of trouble with the police. Nothing serious, and nothing that wouldn't be hidden underneath the veil of minor-aged mischief, but nobody with any kind of police record would be able to enter into the academy. Not through the regular admission process. Not when there were so many other, more qualified applicant on the waitlist. The decision to reject had not been wrong.

Barnaby placed the folder on the table, and then his hands on either side of the folder, thinking. With a flurry of motion, he took the folder and shoved it into a bottom drawer, locking it with a definitive twist of the key.

* * *

  
_A newborn baby has no fear of tigers._ \- Korean Proverb

* * *

"Wait, wait," Nathan said. He placed his perfectly manicured hands on top of the table. He had Barnaby on video phone. "Tell me the whole thing again." 

"I'm going to need a favor."

* * *

"We've got to figure out your look," Nathan said to Hochuel as they entered Nathan's boutique. 

"I've got a look!" Hochuel protested. "Kind of old-young man. It's really hip to look like this."

Nathan rolled his eyes. "Old-young man is not a look. It's a disease."

Hochuel sighed. "Please, Mr. Seymour - "

"I do like the Mr. Seymour," Nathan said.

"Mr. Seymour - I don't think my look needs changing."

"I'll be the judge of that." Nathan surveyed Hochuel much like a housekeeper inspecting linens with an eye toward determining what to discard. "You're a little short, and sort of boxy, but you've got a cute face, great eyes - can you grow a beard?"

"Not really," Hochuel admitted. "I get a lot of bare patches - the best places are here and here -" he gestured to the area in front of his ears. "Maybe I'll grow my sideburns really big. Mutton chops are cool."

"NO," Nathan denied. "Mutton chops are not cool unless you're a middle-aged eighteenth-century gentleman of leisure. Which you are most emphatically not." Nathan returned to his survey. "And your legs are a bit stumpy - "

"Mr. Seymour - "

"Yes?"

"Mr. Seymour, I'm still growing."

"How old are you again?" Nathan asked, sharply. 

"Twenty. Well, I'll be twenty on my birthday." 

"Then let me give you something for your birthday."

"But that's not until February."

"I insist."

But Hochuel couldn't decide on anything. Nathan decided favors to Barnaby Brooks, Jr. were a mixed blessing. The kid was cute, possessed the nice firm ass of the young, but was ultimately hopeless. "Pick something, please. My gift to you."

"Whatever I want?"

"Whatever you want. Just make sure it feels right."

"Even if it's old-young man style?"

Nathan released his concern with a wave. "Even if it's that."

Hochuel stood up and pointed at something in the far back of the store. It was a black and white porkpie hat.

* * *

"Oi, Baahhhnnny - " Barnaby jerked his head up. Was he hearing things? He looked around Nathan's office. There wasn't anybody here a moment ago - and then he saw Kotetsu in the doorway, cap on his head, long legs coming into the room. Barnaby nearly bit his lip in surprise.

No. Not Kotetsu.

"Hey, Mr. Brooks," Hochuel said, pulling the hat off his head. He was entering Nathan's office, with Nathan just behind. Hochuel cleaned up very nicely indeed; he wore a long-sleeved white button-down shirt with a green-striped tie, suspenders, and well-fitted grey wool pants. 

"Hochuel," Nathan said, enunciating very clearly, "picked the outfit on his own. He said it just felt right to him."

Hochuel smiled widely, thumbs behind the suspenders, evidently pleased with himself. "Pretty nice, ey, Mr. Brooks?"

Barnaby opened his mouth. Then shut it. He found wasn't quite prepared to say anything. 

"Well," said Nathan airily, "let's go down and meet everybody."

* * *

"What's this about?" asked Karina, sliding into a seat in Nathan's large meeting room. "You don't think it's about that reunion thing Agnes wants us to do, is it?"

"Probably," Antonio said.

"No," Barnaby said, walking in.

"Yes," Nathan said, following.

"Well, which is it?" Pao-Lin asked, turning away from the conversation she was having with Keith and Ivan. 

"We're just waiting for a couple more people," Barnaby said.

They heard Hochuel chatting with Nathan's administrative assistant. Then he walked in the door, smiling. "Hey," Hochuel said, raising his hand in greeting.

"Everybody, meet Hochuel Lee," Barnaby said. "Hochuel, meet some of the heroes I've worked with. They're all retired from HeroTV, but they all do things that you might find interesting."

Barnaby could almost hear the wheels turning in the heads of the heros as they took Hochuel in.

"He is a very lovely young man," Nathan commented, smiling. 

"Hi," Hochuel nodded around at the group as individual introductions were made. When he got to Karina he said, "Ma'am."

Karina quivered with indignation. "I am not a ma'am. I'm not even thirty - "

Pao-Lin rolled her eyes. 

Nathan gave Karina a quelling look. "Honey," he said, warningly. "Let's not do this. We were all there when your first album came out, and I know exactly how long ago that was."

Hochuel found a seat next to Antonio. 

"Nice shoes," Antonio commented, looking down at the black and white spectators Hochuel was sporting.

"Yeah, they're pretty nice," Hochuel said proudly. "When I saw them, I just thought they looked right. For me. You know?"

Antonio nodded slowly. "Yeah. Sometimes, things just are like that."

Barnaby said, "Hochuel wants some career advice. I would take it as a personal favor if each of you could take a day to have him shadow you and maybe you could talk to him about what you do."

Everybody frowned. Barnaby Brooks, Jr. was not a giver nor a borrower of favors. Something was up. Still, curiosity is a powerful force, even among NEXT. Slowly, they all agreed.

* * *

Everything within Keith's veterinary practice was white or brushed steel with touches of purple peeking trhough. It was evidently a great proud moment for Keith when a chocolate retriever appeared at the door.

"This is a nice dog," Hochuel said, squatting down the dog. "What's your name, huh? John? What a good dog you are."

Keith sucked in a breath. "How did you know?" 

Hochuel shrugged. "He seems like a John."

Keith smiled proudly, nostalgically. "He's actually John the Third, but don't tell him that. I'd like him to believe he is an individual. Besides, all the Johns have have special places in my heart."

"I bet the first John was really special," Hochuel said. "John is a great name for a retriever, golden or chocolate. You know, with their big floppy ears and a doggy grin - "

Keith turned away. Something had gotten into his eye.

* * *

Barnaby was working late when he saw Hochuel outside his office.

"Hochuel - what're you doing?" 

"I'm, uh," Hochuel clutched a large brown paper bag to his chest. "I'm going on my break."

"Come on in - "

Hochuel swallowed, nervously. 

"I've been thinking," Barnaby said, "Maybe you should retake the admission exams."

Hochuel blinked. "If you think so, Mr. Brooks."

Awkwardly, Barnaby said, "Good." 

Hochuel looked around the room, the blank walls, furniture sufficient for only one person (the rickety guest chair seemed more decoration than seating) despite its large size. 

Barnaby sat down at his desk and shuffled some papers.

"When do you go for dinner?"

Barnaby looked up, as if suddenly made aware of Hochuel's continued presence in the room. "When I'm hungry."

"Ah." Hochuel nodded, as if making a decision. He ignored the guest chair and sat on one end of Barnaby's desk. From the depths of his big brown bag he pulled a huge sandwich. He unwrapped it and began to eat it.

"What are you doing?" Barnaby asked.

Hochuel have a half-shrug. "Eating my lunch. At dinnertime. Because that's when I get my lunch break. And, I'm hungry." 

Out of the corner of his eye, Barnaby watched as Hochuel reached back into the bag and pulled out a juice box covered with some robot cartoon character. He popped in the straw and drank the liquid. Barnaby dropped his eyes, trying to recover from having someone so near his work space. 

It was only when the straw made a horrid slurpy sucking sound that Barnaby looked up. "Do you mind?"

"I don't." Hochuel shook his head. "I thought it was maybe because you didn't have anybody to eat with. But then I thought it would be nice to have some company, and my mom always says, 'nobody should eat alone.'" He pitched the brown bag, sandwich wrap, and juice box into Barnaby's garbage can and took the garbage can to his own larger bin. A moment later, he returned Barnaby's garbage can and closed the door behind him.

* * *

Barnaby sat at the front of the classroom, his laptop open. As discreetly as he could, Barnaby peeked over the top of the screen.

Hochuel sat at a desk in an otherwise unoccupied classroom, a small stack of exam books in front of him. He was a noisy test taker; sighing, groaning, thumping his feet and then his knees against the desk, somehow able to make the act of writing loud. Still, he had persevered through almost a full eight hours of exams; math, science, reading and writing competency, foreign language proficiency, history and civics.

A new notice popped up on Barnaby's screen. As he read it, he could feel himself tense. It was an email from the school's physician, confirming his suspicions. Hochuel had something like Hundred Power. Out of all the NEXT Barnaby had known, or read about, Hundred Power was a very rare thing. He had only known of two people to have it; himself and Kotetsu. And if this kid had it...

"Pencil down, please," Barnaby said. "You can give the books to me."

Hochuel sighed and flipped the testing book closed. He gathered the rest of the materials up and stuffed them into a large clasp envelope with a pre-printed address. "Uh, Mr. Brooks?"

Barnaby accepted the thick envelope. "Yes?"

"When do you think the results will come back?"

"It will take at least a couple of weeks."

"Okay." Hochuel concentrated, as if memorizing the information. He smiled, the corners of his eyes turning up, his mouth a little uncertain. "Well, I guess I'll be seeing you?"

Barnaby smiled. "Yes. I think we'll definitely be seeing each other."

* * *

As Barnaby was leaving for the day, he placed a clasp envelope with a pre-printed address into his assistant's in-box. He wrote on the top sheet of notes on the pad on the desk and placed on the envelope. The note, in neat block print, read, "SHRED." 

He walked out, shutting the door behind him. 

In the morning, Barnaby's assistant walked into the room and opened a window, humming.

A stray breeze lifted the note, sliding it off the envelope and on into the trash.

* * *

Hochuel's second day of shadowing was spent with Pao-Lin. 

He wandered through her studio as she described her business of designing and contracting custom gyms. He glanced over the plans of her latest design. 

"Is this for you?" he asked, pointing.

"Oh, no," she said. "I've got individual clients who are really interested in very particular kinds of workouts, and others, like commercial gyms, who are interested in much more flexible spaces."

He looked down at her sketches, rubbing his chin. 

"I'm still working on that," she said. "It's funny because I've got tons of ideas for my actual work, but I can't come up with anything for a logo. I've been just using my name and while that's good, I'd like a little graphic or something."

"You know what you need?"

Pao-Lin looked at him, a bit askance. "What?"

"I like a lightning bolt, like right here," Hochuel said, gesturing toward the bottom of the page. "Yeah. I think that suits you." He paused. "Maybe crossed with an aster."

Pao-Lin barely withheld a child-like gasp.

* * *

"Bonjour," Agnes said briskly into the phone.

"Hello, Agnes, this is Barnaby Brooks, Jr."

Agnes' voice changed, becoming much more beguiling. "What can I do for you, Barnaby Brooks, Jr.?"

"I've got a student here would be interested in looking at the inner workings of HeroTV."

"Now, now, we can't just have anybody come into HeroTV," Agnes reminded him. "There's a great deal of security and intellectual property we'd like to keep to ourselves."

"Agnes."

"Barnaby." She studied the fingernails on one hand. "Have you looked at the contract for the reunion special?"

"If I do, would you let him into the studio?"

"I'll throw in a visit with Dr. Saito if you sign the contract."

Agnes could hear a faint crunching sound through the receiver. The sound of Barnaby grinding his teeth was music to her ears.

"Yes, I'll sign it."

"Done. Make the appointment through my secretary, won't you?"

"Fine." Barnaby clicked off.

Agnes looked up at the ceiling with a triumphant smile. She'd gotten him. The ratings for the special were guaranteed to go through the roof.

* * *

Hochuel stuck in his head into Barnaby's office. "You busy, Mr. Brooks?"

"Why?" Barnaby looked up, wary. 

"Just a minute." Hochuel disappeared. Moments later, he burst into the office, bearing a violently puce bag covered with neon-green felt flowers. He placed it triumphantly on Barnaby's desk.

"What is that?"

Hochuel smiled. "Beef stroganoff and cabbage rolls."

"You cook?" Barnaby couldn't hide his surprise.

The smile disappeared off Hochuel's face. "I can't cook. My sister made it. She said it's your favorite."

"Why?"

"I told Hye-chuel that I never saw you eat, and that you never seem to have any food in your office or office garbage. She wants to make sure you're eating okay, Mr. Brooks." He proceeded to take a seat, pull out several square boxes, and open them up. The rich smell of long-stewed meat filled the air. Hochuel divided the contents of the largest into two containers, spilling some liquid on the once-pristine desk blotter. 

"What are you doing?"

"I'm sharing your food. That's too much for one person." After a beat, Hochuel said, "Don't worry about it being cold. I heated it up in the staff microwave." 

Wryly, Barnaby asked, "Nobody should eat alone?"

"No way," Hochuel said, without a trace of shame. He dug out a spork, grabbed a container and settled himself down. After hoovering up several bites, Hochuel asked, "You don't like it? You should. Hye-chuel got Hye-chun to make it for you. You remember Hye-chun. She's the one with the restaurant."

Bemused, Barnaby found himself sharing his unexpected dinner with an unexpected guest. "Is she a Lee, too?"

"Nah. She's a Callahan. She studied in Ireland and brought back a guy. Don't know how they communicate - he barely speaks English." Hochuel took a big bite that bulged out his cheeks. After a moment, he swallowed and said, thickly, "The building is full of my relatives."

"I saw the list by the intercom. Anybody in there not related to you?"

"That Park guy - I don't know where he came from."

"Korea, presumably."

"Yeah." Hochuel grinned up at Barnaby, merely happy to receive any attention, like a puppy incapable of comprehending the difference between a head rub and a noogie. He pulled a water bottle out of a pocket and took a big swig. 

Astonished, Barnaby looked down at the scattered remains of dinner, a wreck of food scraps scattered all over the top of his formerly spotless desk. The kid had nearly obliterated the entire bag. 

Hochuel looked at Barnaby's uneaten portion with anxious, melting golden-brown eyes. "Hey, you going to eat that?"

* * *

Antonio had Hochuel meet him at a bar. He found Hochuel standing beside a stunningly gorgeous blonde woman, chit-chatting. When the kid caught sight of Antonio, he bid the blonde farewell and went to sit next to Antonio.

"What the hell?" Antonio said. "You don't leave a pretty girl to hang out with an old man."

Hochuel frowned, his heavy eyebrows drawing together. "What do you mean?"

"She was flirting with you!"

Hochuel turned his head to look at her. She smiled back at him, giving him a little fingertip wave. He waved back and then turned back to Antonio. "Nah. She just wanted to talk to me about my phone."

"My god, you are hopeless," Antonio said, disgusted, glancing at Hochuel's cheap cell. He gestured to the bartender. "Oi, two beers." 

"Uh, I can't," Hochuel said, nervous. 

"Why?"

"I'm not twenty-one yet."

At Antonio's stunned silence, Hochuel asked, miserably, "What if they card me?"

* * *

"How come you don't go out?" Hochuel raised the container of supposedly 'shared' soup to his lips and slurped. He had come bearing yet another one of his sister's dinners for two and Barnaby hadn't been able to turn him away. Not out of his office, not away from him and not away from his new blotter.

Barnaby looked away from his grilled beef and rice and pickles and up at Hochuel, a sharp retort on his lips when he paused, considering his answer. "I go out." 

Hochuel continued, "No you don't. I mean, I have to be here, but it's late and you're still here. You probably have to get here early and then you stay late - you're not married or have kids, so why don't you go out?"

"How do you know I'm not married?"

"Please. My next sister, your 'biggest fan"," Hochuel's air quotes indicated his opinion on that particular self-appellation, "told me. That's why she sends food. You don't send food to married people - they've got somebody to take care of them. So, when's the last date you had?"

"First of all, you don't know me. Wait, how much do you know about me?"

"Not a lot." Hochuel looked briefly embarrassed. "I probably should have looked you up, but research isn't, you know, one of my strengths. Besides, Hye-chuel tells me everything I need to know. Not that she tells me much. Anyway, I know you're alone." 

"I've had relationships," Barnaby said defensively. "How do you know I'm not in one now?"

Hochuel gave him a funny look. "Okay. You are in such an awesome relationship you're here, at work, where I am, instead of with them. Seriously. Are you in one now?"

"I'm busy. I not only work here, but I also manage the intellectual property that my parents left."

"Really? What did they do?"

The kid really didn't know. It was funny, to be free from people's assumptions and yet strange to be rehashing something that seemed like common knowledge. "They were roboticists. They were pioneers in android technology, and they created the forerunners of some of the medicbots that are on ambulances now."

"Cool." Barnaby was congratulating himself on steering the conversation away from the dangerous topic of his dating when Hochuel opened his mouth again. "You dating now?"

"No," Barnaby admitted.

"Soooo, when's the last time you've gone out on a date?"

"When's the last date you had?" Barnaby countered.

"Dude, I'm poor, I work nights, I live with my parents and a million relatives. The surprise would if I could get a somebody to give me a second look. But you - you're hot - oh, sorry, _distinguished_ \- you're rich, you've got a great job, you're famous, you've got great eyes and eyelashes to kill for."

While Barnaby was still recovering from Hochuel's listing of his assets, the kid continued to talk.

"When was your last date?"

"I go out." Barnaby paused, unable to recall the last time he had gone out on a non-work function. 

"I guess you don't have a girlfriend then." Hochuel paused, and then added, "Or a boyfriend."

"That's not your concern," Barnaby said, sternly.

"Look, I don't care. I can see the benefits of either side, and I like 'em both," the kid said casually.

Barnaby didn't even have time to absorb this when he was struck again by the force of Hochuel's presumptions. 

"But maybe you're even ace, and that's cool. But that doesn't mean you should be so alone all the time."

"Ace?" Barnaby began to sputter. "You mean asexual? You shouldn't care what I do- "

"Awww, Mr. Brooks. Just because somebody's ace doesn't mean they don't need people sometimes."

"What do you know about it?"

"My oldest sister might be ace - " Hochuel paused and then, as if reporting on a cultural phenomenon to someone across a generational and coolness divide, enunciated, "-a-sexual. She's really into her own thing - but she loves kids, even if she doesn't want to have to go through the whole ordeal about getting her own. Maybe you're like that. I mean, my mom gives her hell about it, but hey, if not having a partner makes her more happy than having one, that's cool. She's old - almost forty - she should know what she wants by now."

"I - I - "

"If she didn't lean toward women, I'd introduce you. It would be nice if you two got married - you could be a part of the family. I'd like to be married someday," Hochuel said dreamily, his bare chin resting on his cupped palm. "I don't know if I need kids, but having that special person with you everyday, a partner for life, would be awesome." Hochuel looked down at his watch, an ancient clunky digital model covered in teeny buttons that he had previously demonstrated could do simple math calculations. He exclaimed, "Crap. Break's over." He jammed his cap back on and yelled out the door, "See you tomorrow, Mr. Brooks."

Barnaby thought about it, and the corner of his lips began to quiver. It was a date. Tomorrow, then.

* * *

Ivan met Hochuel outside Kinokuniya Books. 

When Ivan was about to enter, Hochuel said, "This is cool, but you know I'm Korean, right? Not Japanese. I can't read any of these."

Ivan froze. 

Hochuel said, "You want get some ice cream instead? I think I saw a place down the street." As they walked, Hochuel asked, "Did you go to Hero Academy?"

Ivan nodded. "We learned a lot of things there, and I go back from time to time to teach."

"You like teaching?" 

"Well," Ivan looked uncomfortable. "My best advice is really unpopular." At Hochuel's curious look, Ivan continued. "One of the most important thing a hero needs to do is to appeal to their sponsor. Make appearances, make sure your logos are visible."

"Aw, Mr. Origami," Hochuel said, looking as if he knew exactly why that piece of advice would be unpopular. "But what about helping people?"

Ivan nodded. "I did learn that is the most important thing. That and feeling like you're making a difference with whatever power you have. That's what makes you hero, and gets you on HeroTV. But the financials are what keep you on HeroTV." He made a vague sideways gesture. "But I retired a while ago. Things might have changed."

"So, what do you do now?"

"I run a furniture store. I specialize in wallpaper and wall hangings."

Hochuel nodded. "One of my sisters is really into wall hangings."

* * *

Karina looked out of the recording studio window at Hochuel, who was chatting with her toddler-aged daughter. He had taken some time to keep her company while Karina was busy with something in her office.

 _What a sweet kid,_ she thought. _He's going to make a great dad someday._

Her daughter was now pawing at something on Hochuel's phone.

Karina sighed. She was going to have to stop that. As she stood, she heard a little bit of the music coming out of the phone. She smiled. It was one of her songs, one of her favorites. Who picked it? Her daughter grabbed Hochuel's hands and began to twirl in his arms. 

It was so sweet. Karina lifted up her own phone and snapped a photo. Too bad the photo was one where Hochuel had stopped dancing with her daughter and demonstrating a really, really terrible version of the Roger Rabbit.

* * *

  
_When tigers die, they leave behind their skins; when people die, they leave behind their names._ \- Korean proverb.

* * *

The halls of Apollon Media were lined with transparent cases of old costumes of heroes, past and present. Blue Rose's very first costume stood by the line of drink vending machines, while Rock Bison's mid-career suit pointed out the way to the main bank of elevators. The focus in the center of the building's massive entry hall was Barnaby Brooks, Jr.'s very last suit, an angular chiton of shiny charcoal and pink with his signature ear-radar.

Dr. Saito spared a small portion of his attention on the security camera focused down the hall of his lab. A young man with short dark hair was walking down the hall, looking at the cases down with equal parts confusion and amazement. This area of the building was restricted from the general public, this hall was lined with cases of costumes that had never been worn; prototypes of suits, half-sized models, partially built suits. 

The young man had stopped in front of one in particular. It was a double-sized case containing the last surviving matched costumes of Wild Tiger and Barnaby Brooks, Jr., arranged back to back in action poses. They were a bit clunky compared to the sleekness of Barnaby's last suit, but there was something that united them, making them stand out. The man had raised a hand, pressing it lightly against the glass, as if to touch them, test their reality.

Saito pushed a button, opening the doors. The young man jumped. He turned, and seeing the open doors, walked cautiously through them, calling, "Hello?" He paused to look at more cases inside the lab. The cases here contained bits and pieces of suits that had sustained damage, notes were written directly upon the items; multiple layers of colors of permanent marker of calculations, circles and arrows noting areas wear and weakness. "Wild Tiger Facepiece, suit model WT4059, damaged January 25, 1978, turned in by Kotetsu T. Kaburagi. Needs more reinforcement? Fight with Jake Martinez - what type of force? Likelihood of similar force?" 

As the young man got to the last case, he recoiled as if slapped. Within it lay the remains of a severely damaged green and white whole body suit; half of a helmet, a torso piece with the chest and abdomen completely destroyed, the area blasted out, upper portion of the legs scorched. "Wild Tiger suit model WT4204, torso, damaged December 11, 1978, turned in by Barnaby Brooks, Jr. Initial damage done with laser sword, catastrophic suit loss due to H-01 laser rifle. No more changes to suit possible/necessary."

Dr. Saito greeted the young man. He didn't seen notice he was spoken to, not until Saito tapped him on the shoulder. The man startled, turning swiftly. Saito wondered, what is it with the people he worked with that they couldn't hear anything, even with all their super powers? 

"Oh, hi," he said, recovering from his initial, involuntary jump when Dr. Saito tapped him. He extended a hand. "I'm Hochuel Lee."

Saito took in the young man's frame, calculating his height, weight, and various measurements.  "Do you want to try on a bodysuit?" 

Hochuel blinked. "You're Dr. Saito, right?"

"It's much sleeker than any in the cases."

With the smile of someone trying to placate a crazed elderly relative, Hochuel nodded, looking as though he was wondering if he had just stepped through the looking glass.

"It's a prototype." Saito guided Hochuel into another part of his lab, gesturing to the suit behind the glass. It was a black suit, with simple pale green lines that seemed to represent muscles. "It is the partner suit of the one we were designing for Barnaby, for the reunion special. We were thinking maybe a guest would wear it, just to try it out. First, try on this." He handed Hochuel a folded-up bundle.

The bundle turned out to be a body suit with an attached hood, the material thin and slippery, wires and circuitry running throughout the slick fabric. Hochuel held it out in front of himself. Dr. Saito frowned. A bit too big. Well, adjustments would always be necessary. 

"Put it on."

Dr. Saito clipped on his own headgear and microphone as Hochuel wiggled himself into the suit. Hochuel copied Dr. Saito's mimed gesture, pulling the hood over his head, adjusting the attached earpiece and pulling up the collar to put the microphone just under his lower lip. Then he pulled awkwardly at the sides of the suit, twisting his hips at the varying tightness over his thighs.

"THE SUIT WILL CONFORM TO THE BODY OF THE WEARER." 

Wincing, grabbing at his ears, Hochuel said, "Can you speak softer?"

"LIKE THIS?"

"Softer?"

"Like This?"

"Softer?"

"Like this?"

"Okay. Great."

"Try out the suit - I want you to walk around in it. The more you are in it, the better the fit."

Hochuel began to walk around the lab. The fabric that had been bunching around his knees and hips began to smooth themselves out. "Wow. Nice."

"It is bio-reactive," Saito explained. "The material is fabricated fully stretched. Heat differences across the surface will make it contract, until the temperature differences grade smoothly across it."

"Oh, oh, hey!" Hochuel began to say, suddenly shaking his leg and hopping on the other foot. Then his eyes began to cross.

"Yes. You have discovered a bug in the fabrication - the stretch in the crotch is different than across the knee. We are working on a solution."

"You could have said something!" Hochuel grimaced.

"SQUAT!" 

"What?" Hochuel made a grab for his nether parts.

"SQUAT! YOU NEED TO SQUAT! It will conform the longer you wear it."

"Argh!" 

"SQUAT!"

"Argh!" 

Excited, Saito said, "Try on the hard-shell!" 

Hochuel approached the suit eagerly, but slowed down as he got in front of it.

After instructing Hochuel exactly how the pieces fit together, Saito watched Hochuel still puzzling over it. "What's wrong?"

"It feels funny - like there's some pieces missing." Hochuel shrugged helplessly. "Sorry. Just a weird feeling?" he questioned, almost to himself.

Saito said, "There was an old suit that had extra panels - but those turned out to be inefficient." The suit was a little large in places, especially long in the shins and thighs. It was a little tight about the chest. Saito made some notes about the about the trade-off between fit and coverage; if there was more flex material at the joints, there would be less armor overall and the wearer would have less protection, yet more armor meant the suits had to be more custom-fitted, which took time and was less flexible. After Hochuel had put the suit on, Saito asked, casually, "What is your power?"

Hochuel blinked, as if he couldn't hear him. 

"WHAT IS YOUR POWER?"

Wincing, Hochuel said, "I don't know. Extra strength and speed and agility. I think." 

"Good, good. Power up, would you?"

"My power is kind of erratic sometimes - I just starting developing, Doctor - "

"It's okay, it happens to every NEXT." Saito refrained from commenting that he wasn't that kind of doctor. He had seen a great deal of NEXT development, after all. "I just want to see what yours does."

After a moment, the circuitry tracing the musculature lit up, responding to trace changes in electrical impulses given off by Hochuel's nervous system. 

"Good, good. How is the movement?"

Hochuel attempted a few kicks and a punch. First, clumsily, and then the movements became more natural as he got used to the suit.

"Good, good. Put on the helmet. How is the visibility?" 

He threw Saito a thumbs-up sign.

"It's good. Get into that testing room there."

Hochuel pointed to a bare room that had clear plexiglass walls. "Here?"

"Yes."

Immediately after Hochuel walked in, the door sealed shut behind him. A crane dropped an enormous cement block down onto the floor. "Break it."

"What?"

"BREAK IT!" Saito shrieked.

"How?"

"Punch it, kick it - I don't care. SMASH IT!" Saito shrilled.

Hochuel began pounding on the block with his fists. He had rendered it to rubble within seconds, along with much of the surrounding area. 

"Good." Saito said.

"I agree."

Hochuel turned his head abruptly at the new voice, stopping when he saw Barnaby next to Dr. Saito through the plexiglass. Barnaby was already in his body suit, which fit him perfectly. In an annoyed voice, Hochuel asked, "Why doesn't he have to squat?" 

Dr. Saito said, "We know his measurements already. He doesn't need adjustments. Besides, you're useful for working out the bugs in the guest suit." 

"That's just great," muttered Hochuel.

"Why don't you come back here? The automatic cleaner needs to run and then I want Barnaby in the room."

Saito helped Hochuel took off his suit, who had apparently forgotten how the suit was constructed and in which order the pieces were to be taken off. The inside was surprisingly dry considering the workout that had been done inside it. Saito took out a silver marker and wrote some notes on the armor. Once he was done with his initial reflections, he stood up and stood next to Hochuel, who was looking through the window at Barnaby. 

Barnaby stepped into the room. As he hit a particular corner, floor panels lit up in a fluorescent pink as they sensed his weight. He gripped handles at the walls, lasers ran over his limbs and the the back wall disappeared. Pieces of his suit came flying at him from all directions; greaves, poleyn and cuisses for the legs, vambraces, couters, and gauntlets, cuirass with attached pauldrons that had Saito's signature extended shapes. The helmet hung in front of him, this Barnaby took and placed upon his own head with the ease of great practice.

Saito spared a glance for Hochuel, who looked simultaneously envious, impressed, and disgruntled.

A crane lowered fresh cinder blocks. "KICK IT!" screamed Saito at Barnaby.

Barnaby proceeded to kick the blocks to smithereens, and then continued to strike at the rubble. At the four-minute fifty-five second mark, "Good Luck Mode" sang out a feminine voice, and the leg of the suit extended, lighting up. After the Mode ended, the leg tried to retract, but whined upon re-entry.

"Twenty years," Barnaby said to Dr. Saito. "Twenty years and you still haven't fixed that."

"So ungrateful," muttered Saito. "Twenty years and hardly a 'thank you.' It's getting worked on. The good luck mode is even cooler though - did you see the way it lights up now?" 

Yeah, Dr. Saito admitted to himself, he really should fix that, but there was so much cooler stuff to work on. He saw how Hochuel watched Barnaby pull off the suit, his eyes upon Barnaby's body. He should really talk to the kid and see if he was really that oblivious about ogling one's elders. 

Hochuel was getting dressed in his street clothes when Agnes' voice came in through the speaker at his desk. "Saito, how long you're going to hold onto my little good luck piece?"

"If you need him---"

"I do. Right now." Without a by your-leave, Agnes entered the labs and walked out with Hochuel in tow.

Well, thought Dr. Saito. Twenty years hadn't changed her one bit. And he really should talk to Barnaby about his eyes lingering upon Hochuel's retreating backside. Not to be so obvious. Eh. He'd do that after he fixed the Good Luck Mode on Barnaby's suit.

* * *

  
_In the valley where there are no tigers the hare is king._ \- Korean Proverb

* * *

Agnes took Hochuel into the control room. "This," she said, "is where the magic happens."

Sitting inside was a woman with spiky hair and a man with a rich head of curls, both in headsets. "Mary Rose, Cain Morris, meet Hochuel Lee. He's a "friend" of Barnaby Brooks, Jr." She plumped herself between the two producers. "What's the latest?" 

"We've got links to every camera in Sternbild, private or publicly owned. We've also got mobile cameras - a news van, helicopter, everything linked via satellite upload."

"What do you think?" Agnes turned to Hochuel. 

"Wow. You mean you could get every act of every person on every street corner?" Hochuel asked.

Agnes nodded proudly. "It's amazing, right?"

Hochuel looked a little concerned. "Sure, but don't people care about their privacy?"

"If they're committing crimes, they should be seen."

"I guess," he said, doubtfully. "But - " he shrugged, unable to adequately phrase his misgivings. "It seems like too much."

"It does, but it's not," Agnes declared. "We're working on getting more and more cameras. We've got a bunch of shows in development already based on the footage we've got already." She grabbed Hochuel and walked him out of the control room and into a meeting room.

"This is development," she said. A bunch of executives in nice clothes looked at Hochuel with some concern. "This is a friend of Barnaby Brooks, Jr.," she introduced. They started to relax.

Hochuel sat, fidgeting, while the executives pitched different shows to Agnes for the new television season. Then came one that made Agnes pick up her head. "The NEXT Superstar! It's about picking the best students of the Academy and then running them through competitions to see which one gets a full position on HeroTV!"

"NEXT Superstar - I see what you did there!" said a woman with honey-colored skin and greying brown hair.

"So many sponsors want a good accounting for their money - they don't know if the new NEXT they're sponsoring will pull in good numbers, more eyes on their product - this is a guarantee. At least for the first season after their season on the NEXT Superstar."

Hochuel bent his head toward the executive next to him, a pale-skinned, red-haired man. "Why do people care about the numbers?"

"Sponsors want their advertisements in front of people who will buy their product, so - the more people are watching, the higher the numbers, the higher the numbers, the more sponsors are willing to pay for the time."

Hochuel's eyebrows drew down together. "But how is that helping people?"

"If you're lucky enough to be featured on HeroTV, your crime will get solved."

"But what about crimes that NEXT aren't good for solving? Like - "

"Like - ?"

"I don't know - corruption, or lying under oath, or ordering somebody to commit a crime - so the person committing the crime gets caught but the person who ordered it, who may order many more, doesn't get caught."

"Well - " Agnes interrupted, watching every one of her executives watching the conversation with Hochuel with a variety of expressions ranging from surprise to scorn. "That's very interesting, Barnaby Brooks, Jr.'s _friend who has no influence on this network_ , but that has nothing to do with a show."

Hochuel blinked. "I guess it doesn't." He looked a bit stunned. "But what about a show about people who help other people. Regular people? Like firemen or teachers or pet rescuers?"

"People won't watch that! People want recurring characters, action, adventure and romance!" said the woman with the greying hair.

"What kind of television do you like?" It was said almost accusingly by a brown-haired, pale-skinned man.

"Don't you like action?" asked a medium-complected, bland-faced woman.

"Sure," Hochuel said.

"Adventure?" asked an attractive, dark-skinned man.

"Sure," Hochuel repeated.

"Drama?" asked an olive-toned woman with black hair.

"Yeah."

"Then why don't you want to see the Next Superstar?" demanded the olive-toned woman.

"Well, I guess I like all those things but I also like knowing they're kind of made up. I really don't want to know that somebody got hurt while making entertainment for me."

"Don't you want to be on tv?" asked the dark-skinned man.

"Not - not really. Not like this. Not on a reality show." 

"Why not?"

"Because I don't have game," Hochuel said. "I live with my parents and my grandma, my big sisters and brothers and my nieces and nephews all live down the hall. I don't need them to see my mistakes and have them talked about. I don't need to know that they're all watching me strike out with a date, and I really don't need them to be gossiping or having people tell them about it. No, thanks."

The executives frowned at him and then, as one, turned away. Hochuel sat in silence for a while, and then slid out of the meeting. Agnes pretended not to notice.

* * *

"Dr. Saito?" The quiet voice came through the intercom at the lab.

Saito checked the monitor and then opened the door. Hochuel walked in. "What're you doing here? Isn't Agnes - " Saito saw Hochuel flush with embarrassment. 

"No. She's still in a meeting." 

Saito finished typing in some numbers into a computer and looked up to see Hochuel looking at him. 

"Just - just - I don't understand HeroTV."

"Why don't you sit here while I work and we can talk."

* * *

Barnaby sighed as he walked down the sidewalk. He had just gotten an earful from Agnes about Hochuel. He could tell she was spinning it to her advantage, but it only compounded his need to have a conversation with the kid, if only to sort out what exactly happened. Goodness knows it wasn't because he was looking to make Agnes happy. 

He had been directed to the end of the block by a more than helpful big sister. Barnaby wasn't certain if he had met her before, but he thought he might not have. As he turned the corner, he saw a dark-haired young man in a pair of long gym trunks, pulling off his damp, clinging white tank top, revealing a lean, muscular torso covered in golden brown skin. Barnaby's breath stuttered. He had not - he had not - he had not had so strong a reaction to another human being in so long. It caught him off guard, a sucker punch to the throat.

The man turned. It was Hochuel. Of course. 

"Oh, hey!" Hochuel said, his face lighting up. "You want to play?" He gestured to the basketball he was holding.

"I'm not very good," Barnaby demurred.

"C'mon. It'll be fun. I don't expect much performance out of an old man." Hochuel drawled, _"Mister Broooks."_

"Old man? Who is the old man?"

Hochuel's face lit up with mischief. "I'll take your advanced age into consideration. I usually go twenty-one with my friends, but we'll just go until you're tired. Ten?" 

"Ten?"

"I'll spot you a couple of points," Hochuel offered, casually tucking the ball under his arm and up against his hip.

"Spot me a couple of points? Don't bother," Barnaby said, shucking his suit jacket, stripping off his tie and unbuttoning his starched bespoke shirt, peeling down to a tightly fitting grey cotton v-neck undershirt. "I'll beat you, and you won't even know it's coming until it's gone."

"Big words from a geriatric," snarked Hochuel, dropping the ball to the blacktop and dribbling. Smiling, white teeth flashing. Taunting.

"I'd use bigger ones but I'm afraid a child like you wouldn't understand," Barnaby riposted, swooping in and stealing the ball away.

Barnaby was not one to brag, but he could actually jump. Hochuel, on the other hand, was the kind of guy who played aggressively, made a lot of noise, talked smack, and if he couldn't get in close to the basket, which Barnaby made sure he couldn't, freely went for the long bombs, the Hail Mary's, and the big side scoops, howling "SWISH!" if he made the basket. They bounced off each other, bumping, sliding across sweaty limbs, hipchecking, running hard and playing dirty.

Down to the last couple of points, with only a point spread between them, Hochuel had Barnaby pinned up in the corner of the half-court. Barnaby turned on his power, and went for the basket. Hochuel cried, "The fu-" and also turned on his power. Hochuel chased Barnaby to the basket, and Barnaby jumped, overshooting. Hochuel followed, grabbing Barnaby mid-air and dragged him down to the ground, pushing him against the wall. "What was that - !" 

Panting, Barnaby watched Hochuel's pupils darken and expand, the golden irises disappearing, knowing his own were doing the same. This wasn't what he meant to happen, but he was glad. Inside Hochuel's eyes, there was heat, and adrenaline, and want. So much want. It made Barnaby's stomach clench.

"Sorry - " Hochuel dropped his hands, curling them into fists, the blue aura around his body fading. He closed his eyes, and turned his face away as he took a step back.

Without stopping to think, barely registering that he had turned off his own power, Barnaby grabbed the waist of Hochuel's shorts, pulling him into full contact with his own body. "Don't, you don't know how long - "

Hochuel's stance softened, transforming. He leaned forward, his panting turning into some other kind of breathing, deep and deeper until Barnaby could taste it. The flush on his cheeks turned ruddier. "Yeah? You want this? Barnaby?"

"Yeah." Barnaby felt the soft press of Hochuel's lips nuzzling against the side of his neck and he trembled. "I want you. I want this."

"Uncle!" 

Hochuel shied away from Barnaby like he was burned, turning towards his niece. "Hey - " he cleared his throat, "Barbie-bunny!"

"Uncle doing?" she asked, running up to Hochuel.

"Playing with Mr. Brooks," Hochuel said, patting his niece's head.

Barbie frowned at Barnaby and grabbed Hochuel's leg. "Mine." 

"Hey, Barbie-bunny," he said to her, patting her leg. "Uncle's leg is kind of sweaty, you sure you - "

"MINE!"

Hochuel looked resigned. "Okay. Where's Mommy, Bunny?"

Barbie pointed down the sideway.

"Okay, okay. Let's go." He began to walk with her clinging to it, swinging her with each step. She began to squeal with laughter. "Okay, Bunny, get off my leg."

Barbie pointed at Barnaby. 

"Oh, no, Mr. Brooks is too big to ride my leg." 

Barnaby coughed, covering an inadvertent laugh. He reached down to retrieve his clothing, draping it over his forearm.

She shook her head and then pointed at Barnaby. "Bunny."

"Sweetie, that's Mr. Brooks."

Frowning, Barbie said, "Bunny," with a jabbing point at Barnaby.

"Okay. Let's all go see Mommy, okay Barbie? Okay, Mr - ow!" Barnaby watched as Barbie grabbed a hank of Hochuel's leg hair and yanked. "Uh, uh, Bunny," he said, looking apologetically at Barnaby.

Barbie smiled and let go of Hochuel's leg, holding up her arms. "Carry me."

"Okay," Hochuel grabbed her and swung her up. 

"Oh, here," Barnaby said, pulling an envelope out of his jacket pocket. He was intercepted by Barbie's grabbing hands. 

"What's that?" Hochuel asked. 

Barnaby replied, "It's for your - " 

Hye-chuel ran toward him, calling for Barbie. "I'm so sorry, Barnaby - but Barbie is - "

"It's okay," Barnaby said, smiling, extending the envelope. "Here. These are for you."

Hye-chuel froze. "What?"

"It's tickets for the reunion show. For my biggest fan." Barnaby smiled. 

"No!" 

"Yes," Barnaby gently corrected.

Hye-chuel screamed. "Thank you SO MUCH!"

"It's okay," Barnaby said. 

"Oh my god," Hye-chuel babbled. " - I've got to go make plans - come on Barbie - Hochuel, make sure Barnaby comes to dinner!"

"Thanks." Hochuel smiled at Barnaby as Hye-chuel hurried down the street, Barbie in tow. 

"I wanted to talk to you about Agnes," Barnaby said.

"Yeah." Hochuel's smile faded. "I'm sorry if I said anything wrong."

"It's fine. It's nothing for you to worry about. Agnes just has these ideas, and because of the Academy's association with HeroTV, I have to listen to them."

"I just didn't know HeroTV had so much access to people's lives, you know?"

"Yeah. Most people don't think about it, unless they're caught on television."

"I certainly didn't. And then their ideas about the NEXT Hero just rubbed me the wrong way. I wouldn't want that- "

"It's okay, Hochuel. If you don't want it, you don't have to appear."

"I don't want you in trouble, either." Hochuel frowned, concerned.

"It's fine. I can take care of it. And I can take care of things for you," Barnaby promised rashly. "If you want."

"Maybe. It's not like I'll ever get into Hero Academy and have to worry about it."

"Well, speaking of that - " Barnaby felt Hochuel brace himself. Barnaby smiled. "Congratulations. You got into Hero Academy." 

"What? Are you joking?" 

Barnaby grabbed another envelope out of his jacket pocket. 

Hochuel was thrilled, but paused. "What about Ms. Joubert? I think I, uh, ruined a meeting of hers."

"No big deal," Barnaby said. "Besides, it's not like you'll see her much in the future." _Not if I can tell help it._ "Do you want to have dinner?"

"What? Tonight? I mean, my sister's probably making a twenty-course feast for you right now."

"Next week. With some old friends of mine, the ones you've met, we're going to meet for dinner." Barnaby pressed, lightly. "I'd really like for you to see them again."

"Yeah, all right. I'll come." Hochuel gave in with a smile. "It's like all my dreams are coming true."

* * *

  
_"As soon as you enter affection, it’s separation."_ \- Korean proverb

* * *

"Kid's late," Antonio said. Nathan, Pao-Lin and Keith, Barnaby, and Ben Jackson sat around a table, drinks and an empty basket of appetizers sitting in front of them.

"Let's go ahead and order," Karina said. "He can order when he gets here."

"So, Barnaby," said Antonio, crossing his massive arms over his small paunch. "What is with this kid? Why are you so interested?"

"Yeah," Pao-Lin said. "What is his deal? He's got a lot of advice for a young guy."

Keith said, "I want to thank you, Barnaby, for introducing me to Hochuel. He said something so touching about John the first. Like he knew him. I don't know how he did it. Thank you again."

"Yeah," said Antonio. "Meeting him weird. It was almost like - " he began to look distinctly uncomfortable.

"He reminded me of - " Karina said, haltingly.

"Just like what - " Ivan began.

Nathan looked around at the room. "You are all afraid of saying it. So I will. It's a lot like Kotetsu, isn't it?"

"But how can that be?" asked Antonio.

"Reincarnation," suggested Ben Jackson, looking dubious.

"Hochuel doesn't even really look like Wild Tiger," protested Pao-Lin.

"It's not about how he looks," said Ivan. "It's about the things he says, and maybe something about the way he says it."

"And the way he makes me feel when he says it," said Karina. When all eyes turned to her, she flushed. "Look - " She brought out her phone and showed them the little movie she had made of Hochuel demonstrating a terrible Running Man, the Cabbage Patch (which all looked exactly the same), and then getting down on the floor and making a mash of the worm, which ended with him smashing his face against the floor. "That boy is a menace," she said. She was smiling.

Barnaby wasn't listening. He was looking at the video. Nathan peeked around Barnaby's shoulder. Karina's toddler daughter could be seen squealing and clapping and laughing next to Hochuel. 

"That's one heart the kid's stolen," Antonio commented. 

Nathan's dark, knowing eyes slid over to Barnaby, who was watching the video repeat.

The door to the private room opened, and Hochuel stepped in. He said, breathless, "Sorry, I'm late." There was a chorus of "it's all right" as he took his seat.

"So, what're you going to order?" asked Antonio.

"Curry!" Hochuel grinned.

"No fried rice?" asked Ivan.

Hochuel shook his head. Pao-Lin and Keith frowned.

Once the food arrived, Karina automatically handed him a bottle of mayonnaise. 

"Mayonnaise? With curry? Gross," Hochuel said. He reached over for the bottle of hot sauce. At the concerned looks, Hochuel said, "What? Nobody else likes hot sauce?" And then he said, "You know what's really good? Hot sauce and cream cheese on onion bagels." 

Ivan and Karina blanched. The rest of the table sat in silence as they absorbed this.

"So how old are you?" asked Antonio. "Too young to drink, that, I know."

"I'll be twenty on my birthday." Hochuel continued nervously. "People have always said I don't act my age. Maybe it's being the youngest in a big family."

"Oh, tell us about your family," Pao-Lin invited. 

Relieved to be on familiar ground, Hochuel said, "I'm the last of seven. Four girls and two boys. There's seven years also between me and the next sibling." He joked, "Unlucky number seven."

"Seven kids!!" exclaimed Nathan. 

"Twenty-one grandkids. And counting. Most everything I had growing up was a hand-me-down."

"Hey, Mr. Wild - " Keith said, looking directly at Hochuel.

Hochuel blinked, and then looked around the table, waiting for something out of the blank faces turned in his direction. "Is a Mr. Wild coming?"

"Oh, sorry," Keith flushed. "I must be mistaken. I'm sorry."

"Have you met Kaede?" asked Karina.

Hochuel looked at the assembly blankly. "Was that another Hero?"

"No," said Barnaby, shooting a dampening look at Karina.

The waitress came to take their order.

"I think I've got to go wash my hands," Hochuel said, standing. He fled the room, Nathan looking concerned after him.

"I know about your theory about Hochuel," Pao-Lin said, looking at the center of the table, "but I just don't know. I mean, he's still a different person. Hot sauce? With cream cheese? _That's_ gross."

"What about Kaede? What is she going to think?" asked Karina.

"She is his daughter, so I don't know if it's a great idea to talk to her about this," Nathan replied.

"Yeah. If you think about it, she'll be older than her own father," Keith said.

"He's got his own family, his own history," said Nathan. "He is who he is, and that is all we can expect. He's a NEXT who reminds us of an old friend."

"Anyway," rumbled Antonio, eyes sorrowful, "things haven't ever been the same since that day. What Kaede saw. What we all saw. I helped raise her and she always said that's the reason she never wanted to become a Hero."

"What are your thoughts?" asked Karina, looking at Ivan. "You haven't said anything." 

"He's a nice enough guy - but if he's not Japanese, he's not Wild Tiger reincarnated." Ivan shrugged, fatalistically. "I mean, he's got other things going on, but I think, cultural background really matters."

Ben excused himself. At the backdoor of the restaurant, he caught Hochuel making his way out of the back door.

"What seems to be the matter?" Ben asked.

"How did you know - " Hochuel asked.

"You seemed to be taking a little long."

"Look, everybody's been really nice," began Hochuel.

"Oh, yes? So nice you're slinking away out of a restaurant without eating? Without saying goodbye?"

"I heard you guys talking. I don't know why everybody's acting like this - I mean, what's the deal with the mayonnaise? The fried rice? There's something weird - like a cult or a pyramid scheme. I just got to get out of here. And they're all talking about a Wild Tiger - like we're the same - why the hell - ? I don't have any children - I've never dated any girls - why would they be talking about my daughter? Can you tell me what's happening?"

Ben sighed. "You need a ride home? I've got a car." 

Hochuel nodded, and they began walking to the parking lot. Once they were settled into the old-fashioned sedan, Hochuel said, "Thanks, Mr. Jackson." 

"No problem," said Ben. "Where you headed?" He saw Hochuel's eyes light upon a faded, battered trading card of a blue-suited super hero, stuck up in the driver's side visor. Wild Tiger. "I was a big fan," said Ben. "Know much about him?"

"No."

"He was a great hero. One of the last who wanted to save people, not worry about sponsors."

"You said 'he was' - has he retired?" Hochuel asked. "I haven't met him."

"No. He died. Over twenty years ago." Ben's voice was matter-of-fact, sorrowful.

"Oh." Hochuel subsided. "I guess he meant a lot to you then, with his card still up. I mean, my sister's still got a shrine up to Barnaby Brooks, Jr."

"Yeah," Ben said. "We were friends." He grunted as he executed a sharp series of turns. "I was his manager for a lot of years." 

"These things that people are expecting from you - " Ben said, "The mayonnaise, the history, always being late - that's what they remember most from Wild Tiger. What's easy. The real Wild Tiger, Kotetsu, the man, true character, that can't change. And if, as Nathan says, you are Kotetsu reborn, well."

"It makes me feel like - uh - a bad copy! Someone that nobody is going to be happy with, because they'll always compare to the original and find something missing. I hate that. I'm not Kotetsu. Definitely not a hero, like Wild Tiger."

"There's the expectation, sure. You might have many of the things that we all loved about Kotetsu. You might also have the bad things we didn't like." Ben shrugged. "You can only be what you are."

Hochuel made a sad sound. "I don't even know what that is." Despairing, he asked, "What would you do if you were me?"

Ben paused. "I'd take a little time before I made any big decisions."

"I was afraid of coming to this meeting," Hochuel groaned, slumping against the seats.

"Why?"

"Because first I thought it was Barnaby's friends checking me out, but this is worse. They think I'm Wild Tiger! Do they want me to be Wild Tiger? I don't think I can be him - I don't know him - I'm not him." Hochuel laughed, a harsh bark. "I looked up Wild Tiger after the academy confirmed that only two people have had Hundred Power ever - Barnaby and Wild Tiger. Three if it's me." He moved around restlessly. "Wild Tiger was Barnaby's partner, a real hero who saved people with and had his own cards and everything! I'm just a dumb kid who can't even get my powers to stabilize. How can I be that guy?" 

"You can't," said Ben, sadly. "He left some big shoes to fill. But he was also human. And he was most of all, himself. That's all you can be. Yourself. You can forget about all of us, and all the baggage we have related to Kotetsu. You can wear and eat and do whatever you like. Please, just forgive us our faulty memories, if we see a little bit of Kotetsu in you."

The car came to a stop. Hochuel grabbed the car door handle. "Hey," he said, sheepishly, "thanks."

Ben turned in his seat. "Hey, kid. I want you to know that everybody in that restaurant there really cared about Wild Tiger, and they're trying. If you need to talk, about anything, don't hesitate to call. Don't keep it to yourself."

Hochuel nodded, his face still troubled. "Thanks again, Mr. Jackson." His light brown eyes met Ben's. "I'll keep that in mind."

* * *

Barnaby started at the sound of his phone ringing. "Hello?"

"Hello, Handsome."

"Nathan," Barnaby identified his caller, ruefully.

"This evening's dinner broke up unexpectedly, huh?" Nathan's deep voice sounded thoughtful.

"Yeah. But maybe it was better that way."

"Why would you say that? We all thought you were talking to talk about your big plans for the kid."

"And then the kid disappears," Barnaby sighs. "I - I think I was a bit hasty," he admitted.

"What're you talking about?" Nathan asked.

"Hochuel - he's really young."

"Yeah. Young people don't know anything," Nathan said. "But knowing that didn't stop you before."

"I just don't know if what I'm doing is right - "

"Wait, wait, you're seconding guessing yourself because he's young? Because he's new?"

"Kotetsu would have - "

"He's not Kotetsu," Nathan said. "Even if he is a reincarnation, you can't expect him to act like that, like you can just pick up where you two just left off. Maybe you should think about your expectations and what you're looking for from him. Can he meet those?"

"You're right."

"The sooner we all understand that, the easier it'll be. For everybody." Nathan sighed. "Besides, even if it were Kotetsu, he wouldn't have understood anyway. He was the most clueless man I've ever met, regardless of gender and sexual preference."

"Hochuel is a new whole new kind of frustrating. You wouldn't believe half of the stuff this kid has said."

"I'll bet," said Nathan, comforting. "You going to see him again?"

"He'll be around for work. And he'll definitely be there for the first day of of the term. Thanks, Nathan. You've been a good friend for a long time."

"Handsome, let's not talk about how long."

* * *

Sitting around for a week was difficult, but Barnaby managed. On the first day of class, casually, while sitting in his office, Barnaby checked to see if Hochuel had registered. No one of that name showed up in the database. 

Barnaby next called Human Resources and found out that Hochuel had left over a week ago. No notice. Something about leaving for a new job. He frowned. 

He stood up. As he walked out of his office, his administrative assistant called out to him. She extended a packet of letters. On top was a notice from the testing agency that Hero Academy used.

Barnaby frowned. He hadn't done any testing recently. Except.

He ripped open the envelope. It contained a form letter indicating the low scores of the test-taker, suggesting that they try again after further study. Green eyes scanned the sheet, widening as they took in the contents. It was not the letter that caused a spike of alarm. It was the notation at the bottom that said rejection, cc'd to Barnaby Brooks, Jr. and Hochuel Lee.

 

* * *

  
_The tigers of wrath are wiser than the horses of instruction_ \- William Blake

* * *

 

Barnaby sat at one of the tables in an outdoor cafe when he saw Hochuel come up, pause, and then walk by. He stood up and hurried to catch up with Hochuel, calling his name.

"How'd you find out where I'd be?" Hochuel asked, finally stopping in front of a bench.

"Your sister called. She's worried about you." 

Hochuel was silent, but his cheeks colored.

_"He is a good boy, and he's got a lot of heart, but he's got nothing in his head, and he keeps too much to himself when he's in trouble. Please, talk to him. Treat him well."_

"She sent this." Barnaby handed Hochuel a large tote, 'Hochuel' written on the side in marker in his sister's handwriting.

Resigned, Hochuel took the bag and sat down. He looked inside. "Do you want some?" Hochuel asked, colorlessly polite. "There's plenty." 

Barnaby sat on the other end of the bench.

Hochuel handed Barnaby a container. He picked out the other containers carelessly, placing the different boxes between the two of them. He unrolled a small bundle of napkin, knife and spoon.

"I'm sorry you had to leave. How is your new job?"

Hochuel shoved the food around indifferently. "Pushing a broom in one place isn't any different from pushing a broom in another." At Barnaby's upset look, Hochuel said, "I've got an application in with the Fire Academy. They've got a probationary program for people with records like mine. They take everybody, regular people, NEXT." 

Barnaby swallowed. "Hochuel, I think you should come back to the Hero Academy. "

Hochuel finally turned to look at Barnaby face-on, his eyes on fire from reflection of the setting sun. "I got that letter. They only graded the exam two weeks ago, which means that you sent out an approval prematurely. Why?"

"The test is arbitrary. Academy is there to help NEXT. It would still be good for you - "

Hochuel shook his head. "Anyway, if you can't believe that I can pass on my own, then that means you don't believe in me, that you don't think I can do this. You don't trust me or my ability. You didn't trust me to pass or fail on my own. Did you, _Mr. Brooks?_ "

"Because - " _I needed this. I needed you here._ Barnaby couldn't say it. "I thought you wanted to get into the Academy."

"Not this badly! What if somebody more qualified couldn't get in because of this? Of me? Someone who needed this more than I did?" Hochuel said. 

"They could always try again."

"Tell me, this, Bunny," Hochuel drawled, insulting, "was this for me, for Kotetsu, or for you?" He sighed and packed away the lunch. The corners of his mouth quivered and turned downward. "I don't want to meet again. I'm not okay with being a stand-in for somebody else. Until you understand that, I don't want to see you again." He rubbed an angry fist against his eyes. "I'd like to thank you for the opportunities you made for me, but I don't think I would be able to fit in. Not with all the room taken up by ghosts."

"I'm sorry," Barnaby said.

Softly, Hochuel said, "Me too." He shook his head. "But that's not good enough."

Barnaby watched Hochuel walk away. It was for both of us, Barnaby thought, finally finding the words he should have said. _I wanted it for the both of us._

* * *

  
_It is better to have lived one day as a tiger than 1,000 years as a sheep._ \- Tibetan proverb

* * *

Ben Jackson sat a table in a well-worn tavern, watching HeroTV. Flashy graphics ran across the screen with the new HeroTV logo, bringing the old font as well as the newer font. A young, dark-haired man sat down at his table.

"Happy birthday, Hochuel," Ben said, tipping his own drink in Hochuel's direction.

"Thanks." 

The waitress took their order.

"Why did you want to meet here?"

"Nostalgia. This used to be the Hero's Bar, years and years ago. I spent a lot of time here, made some good memories. How's fire school treating you?"

"Okay," Hochuel grinned. "Learning useful stuff. I think my powers are stabilizing."

"Five minutes?"

"Almost." Hochuel dipped his head, embarrassed. "On average."

The volume on the television got turned up. _And noowwwww, the special we've been waiting 50 years for! It's HeroTV's 50 year anniversary special!_ There are shots of the audience cheering and holding up signs;"Barnaby is MY Hero!" and "Rock Bison 4EVAH" and "SKY HIGH-ER." 

"Hey, there's my sister, and my niece," Hochuel said, pointing to the screen. Ben got a quick impression of a dark haired woman and a very young girl.

Suddenly the audience is broken up by four people holding "Second League" banners. Before the camera could cut away, the security team had arrived on the scene with some of the Second League being lead off. Some unknown person said through their mic, "How did those guys get in?" Some more footage was hastily set up on the screens. 

The screen showed a montage of heroes from the past; Mr. Legend, Stealth Soldier, Lady Grey, Thunderfist. _And one special moment for the hero who can't be with us tonight, here's the Wild Tiger tribute hour."_ There were clips of Wild Tiger as he climbed on buildings, shots of his rankings through the years, Wild Tiger in two different suits, and his partnership with Barnaby Brooks, Jr.

"His power was fading, he didn't want anybody to know," Ben said, softly, his eyes on the screen.

"Maybe it was better for him, for his legend, that he went that way," Hochuel considered.

"Sure. His legend. But, kid, human life can not be made into simple statements." Ben looked at the screen sadly. "He was a real person. He sacrificed his life for this city. He left behind a daughter and a mother and a brother - a whole family, and all his friends, to mourn him."

The waitress put down a pizza in the silence between Ben and Hochuel.

 _And noooww, the heroes we've been waiting 20 years to see reunited!_

There were quick shots of the faces of the heroes as they were elevated on special lifts from below the stage. _Blue Rose! Sky High! Rock Bison! The Electric Dragon, formerly the Dragon Kid! Fire Emblem! Origami Cyclone!_ The crowd roared, cheering even louder than before. All of the heroes were in new suits that nodded toward the designs of their old.

"They look good," Ben said.

"Yeah," Hochuel replied, not taking his eyes off of Barnaby as he shoved a slice of pizza into his mouth.

The television picture blanked out. "Wh-a- " someone at the next table said.

An image of a snake biting its own tail flashed on the screen. Everyone in the restaurant held their breaths.

"Ouroboros," Ben snarled.

Hochuel frowned and turned to look at Ben. "I thought the main part of Ouroboros had been taken out twenty years ago."

"Just the part with Maverick and Jake Martinez. There are small splinters that break out. There hasn't been one in years," Ben said.

"What do you think is going to happen?"

Within a minute, a new image appeared on the television screen, showing the studio was full of people dressed in dark clothing with the Ouroboros insignia. The camera focused on the speaker, a heavy-set, beautiful blond woman. "My name is Jardinne, and I am of Ouroboros. We are all of Ouroboros."

"Now hear this, people of Sternbild. We've got hostages here, and plenty of them. We've also got all the heroes, so there isn't going to be anybody who can rescue you. We're Ouroboros and we're holding everybody in here hostage." The camera captured an image of all the heroes tied up, some of them to each other, some of them to various explosive devices.

"Now, I know you think your police and your mayor and your precious heroes are going to be able to save you. I'm telling you that they can't. And so I propose a small exchange. Get me two hundred billion Sternbild dollars and all of these nice people can go free." The camera scanned across the room and then focused on a small, dark-haired toddler held by two large maternal arms.

Hochuel choked. "Barbie!" He stood and grabbed his coat. 

"What're you doing?" Ben asked, placing a steadying hand on Hochuel's arm.

"Going out."

"You don't happen to have two hundred billion Sternbild dollars, do you?"

"...No."

"Then what are you going off all half-cocked for?"

"That's my niece! My sister! I've got to do something!" Hochuel raised his voice in agitation.

"Wait - wait - " Ben pleaded. He dialed his phone. "Saito? If you're there, you've got to answer me." After a moment, where he seemed to be listening, Ben hung up. He threw some money on the table and said to Hochuel, "Follow me."

"Where are we going?"

"To rescue those people."

* * *

  
_Tyger, tyger burning bright  
In the forests of the night_ \- William Blake

* * *

"Mary Rose!" cried Agnes, frantic from the first signs of the signal interruption began. "Get any kind of connection!"

"I'm trying," Mary Rose shot back, fingers running across the control board.

On the monitors was the single camera angle as broadcast by Ouroboros. "Don't they have any pride in what they're showing?" Agnes asked rhetorically. 

Cain Morris shook his head. He'd been in too many dust-ups with Agnes to get involved when she was on a tear like this.

"We need more angles, so we can see what is really happening in there." She tapped manicured nails against the edge of the board as minutes ticked by. "Get me some outside shots."

"We can't get them," Mary Rose said, clicking through all of the possible cameras.

"Then get me the helicopter. Pull it off the weather beat. This is a much bigger story!" 

"It can't get in very close, and the angle is limited," Cain said.

"I don't care! We need something!"

The helicopter's shaky camera captured a large group of people that were being cleared out of the large perimeter that had been set up by the police around HeroTV building. Emergency personnel could be seen standing around in heavy gear, guiding traffic and people away. 

"The ratings!" Agnes stewed, seeing the real-time viewership rise and rise as more and more people became alerted to the hostage situation. "Those should be ours!"

"Where is your mayor?" snarled Jardinne. She grabbed a thin pale woman from the audience and sneered at her, testily demanding if she thought the audience was worth two hundred billion Sternbild dollars. The woman paled, and blurted out "Yes. I mean, no." She looked frightened by the words that came out of her mouth.

Laughing, Jardinne threw the woman to one of the henchmen. "Yes but no. How much like you ordinary people. You live but you don't. You think you're safe but you're not." She laughed and stared at the camera. 

"Is two hundred billion Sternbild dollars enough for all of these people? Even they don't seem to know!" She smiled, stunning, terrible in her beauty. "How about we make it more interesting? Why don't we start killing one every ten minutes until we reach the number of audience members the mayor thinks is worth two hundred billion Sternbild dollars! Then we'll know exactly what everyone is worth!" She chuckled, her eyes wide and humorless.

The minutes began to tick down. Agnes' breathing shortened as the viewership numbers ticked upward.

The Mayor appeared on the news. The heavy, serious-looking woman said a few brief statements about maintaining order and then disappeared.

Jardinne laughed. "Is that the best your mayor can do?" She turned toward the audience. "You better hope Her Honor can come up with money faster than she can come up with words!"

Five minutes. Four. Three.

"Can - can they do this?" Mary Rose asked.

"They're doing it," muttered Cain Morris, shaking his head.

Jardinne grabbed a young, dark-haired girl from her mother's arms, holding her in front of the camera like a trophy. The girl was too startled to cry. The mother began to shrill.

"Maybe I'll start early!" Jardinne laughed.

"Oh my god, oh my god," Mary Rose began to chant, holding her hands to her cheeks.

"What is - what is that ?" asked Agnes, pointing to the lone broadcasting monitor.

"Holy - " Cain Morris exclaimed. "What is happening?"

The back of the studio exploded open, along with the rest of the Heroes' restraints. Out of the sides of the studio ran the Second League with the Electric Dragon and Fire Emblem, clearing a path through the members of Ouroboros until they forged a path to the studio doors. The Heroes spread out. Barnaby ran forward to Jardinne, who dropped the little girl. Sky High grabbed her before she reached the floor, handing her back to her mother.

The audience began to stream out, assisted by Bombeman, Ms. Violet, Sumo Thunder and Chopman. The Electric Dragon and Fire Emblem joined forces to chase the members of Ouroboros into a corner

"Where is she? Where is Jardinne?" asked Mary Rose, intently scanning the screen.

"She's run off," Cain Morris said.

Suddenly, she appeared, off the center of the monitor, walking backwards.

"What is going on?" asked Mary Rose.

"What is _that_?" asked Agnes.

"It - it's - " Cain stuttered.

"The ghost of Wild Tiger," Mary Rose whispered as an unexpected figure in green and charcoal stalked Jardinne, movements fluid and feline. Jardinne backed into one of the upraised lifts, stumbling and falling backwards.

Holding what appeared to be a small remote in her fist above her head, Jardinne shrieked about a bomb that had been placed under the stage that would go off if she released the switch. Karina froze Jardinne in place, forsaking speaking her old slogan in favor of speed. 

Wild Tiger began to glow blue and smashed down through the floor. Barnaby followed. 

"Wait, wait," Cain Morris said. "We can go through the mics on the suits."

"Do it now!" Agnes ordered. She seethed. "You should have said something earlier!"

Cain hit a few switches on the board, a couple of meters jumped, and out of the speakers they heard the sounds of a full-on battle; gun shots, the zing of sonic weaponry, loud cries, grunts and swears. In what appeared a remarkably long time for the few moments that ticked by, there was silence.

"Can you see the bomb?" Barnaby's voice was very calm.

"Yeah, I see that box on the pillar," replied another voice, deep and anxious-sounding.

On the monitor, the audience continued to stream out as precious minutes passed. Then out went the members of Ouroboros, escorted by the Heroes. The helicopter took the feed of the villains being put into police custody.

Through their headsets, Agnes, Mary Rose and Cain Morris continued to listen to the conversation in the bowels of the studio.

"There's only less than two minutes left!" said the new voice.

"Do you know how to defuse a bomb?" Barnaby asked.

"Are you kidding me? You're the one who actually went to the Academy! What am I saying? You're running the Academy!" 

"Okay." Barnaby's voice was grim. "Do you trust me?"

"What're you going to do?" asked the new voice.

"Not me. Us. It's going to take two to do this together." 

A pained inhalation. "Your leg - oh my god, they hurt your leg - "

"I can't move. I need your help. I trust you. Do you trust me?" 

The silence stretched between the two of them. "Yeah. I believe - " the voice cracked. "I believe in you. I trust you."

"Hail Mary!"

There was a grunt of exertion, and the outside camera caught a brief snatch of a hole being punched out of the back wall, then something thrown outside and high before exploding in a great profusion of light and dust. Minutes later, the Ghost of Wild Tiger was bridal-carrying Barnaby out of the back of the building and out of sight.

"Get me the name! Somebody get me the name of that goddamn NEXT!" screamed Agnes as both the Ghost of Wild Tiger and Barnaby Brooks, Jr. disappeared from view.

* * *

  
_Even if you are caught by a tiger, you will survive if you keep your head._ \- Korean proverb

* * *

Outside of the squat brick building that served as the Fire Academy, an attractive older woman waited. She called out to a young man as he walked by. 

"Hochuel Lee."

"Ms. Joubert," Hochuel said, turning to face her, his face and voice neutral. "Funny meeting you here."

"Funny how hard it was getting any information out of anybody at Hero Academy," she said. 

"How did you find me?"

"I followed you," she said, shameless. "Did you know that the Internet is going crazy over the "Ghost of Wild Tiger." You know, that ghost that saved HeroTV last week." 

"That's great," Hochuel said.

"There are even contests to determine who this NEXT might be."

"Wow. That's some publicity."

Agnes looked him over, to see if he was joking. He kept a straight face. "Where were you two days ago when Ouroboro showed up at the Heroes Reunion?"

"I was having pizza with a friend."

Narrowing her eyes, Agnes said, "I don't believe you."

Humoring her, Hochuel asked, "Then what was I doing?"

"You were in the suit of Wild Tiger. Dr Saito was waiting outside with the mobile unit, and recruited the old Second League to help. We think the Second League dressed up in Ouroboros costumes, went through some old underground tunnels to come out onto the stage. Then they freed the Heroes."

"Wow." Hochuel blinked. "That sounds like a great story. But I don't know anything about it."

"You are contractually obligated to inform HeroTV if you were involved in a crime-fighting activity," she told him.

"I don't have a contract," he said.

"But - you go to the academy. And part of the agreement you sign when attending the academy is that we have the option of picking you up."

"I've never gone to the academy."

"But Barnaby said - "

"Both Mr. Brooks and I know that I could have never gotten into the academy on my own."

"But you were on air!" Agnes exclaimed. "Didn't that do anything for you? People will be wanting to know who you are!"

"Maybe it really was the Ghost of Wild Tiger." Hochuel began to walk away.

Agnes tried a new tactic. "It was you in that suit! You owe HeroTV for the damage you did!"

"Do you have footage?" Hochuel challenged.

"No," Agnes admitted reluctantly. "All the cameras were shut down by Ouroboros, and all our sound equipment failed to record, but I'm sure you're captured somewhere." 

"I don't know anything about what happened last week," Hochuel said, his face blank. "If you ask Ben Jackson, he'll tell you I was with him at the Hero's Bar during the entire hostage situation."

* * *

Upon checking with Dr. Saito, Agnes found that all the information concerning the suit in question had been erased. As far as Dr. Saito was concerned, the suit had never left the lab, had never been worn by anybody. Any damage that had been done to it was during one of the many stages of testing.

Agnes went so far as to try to squeeze Barnaby about getting Hochuel on "The NEXT Big Superstar." 

"Agnes, I don't think there's a case," Barnaby said, looking down at his leg in a cast.

"Barnaby, I know all about you and your theory that this kid is Wild Tiger reborn. Hey, that's great. We could make that a hook on the show, bring you back on."

"I don't want to go back on. And if you pursue it, I will sue," Barnaby warned.

"You can't sue me," Agnes scoffed. "You have signed enough releases that you couldn't sue me if you saw me mug an old lady in person."

"That's true," Barnaby said, "but if you try to reach out to Hochuel in any way, I will sue on his behalf. You have no contractual relationship with him, and you never will."

* * *

"Agnes, can I have a word?" Mary Rose cracked open the door and knocked.

Agnes gestured to a chair in her office. "What is it? Have you found the Ghost of Wild Tiger?"

"No." Mary Rose stood. "Not all of us can be like you, Agnes," she said, finally. "Some of us hang on, because of love."

" _I_ love the work," said Agnes. 

Mary Rose tipped her head downward and mumbled something.

"What did you say?" demanded Agnes, leaning in close to Mary Rose. "You know I don't like that when you do that."

"I said," Mary Rose said, tipping her head back upward. "I meant - it's love of other people, the people we're with everyday. I didn't mean love of this job, that can suck the desire to help out of you." She placed an envelope in front of Agnes. "This is my notice. I'm leaving, and going to work on children's educational television."

* * *

It had been six months since the last attack of Ouroboros and Sternbild had settled back into calmer days.

Barnaby walking by a newsstand when a picture on the front page of a newspaper caught his eye. A fireman was handing a smoke-smudged little boy to a weeping woman wearing a scarf, a half-burned and smoldering building in the background. Barnaby picked up the paper and spread it open. The reporter interviewed the fireman, Hochuel Lee. "I'm just happy to help people." 

"Excuse me," said a portly man in a jogging suit, reaching for the same pile of newspapers.

"Sorry," Barnaby replied. He placed some money onto the tray in front of the cashier and walked off with a copy of the paper under his arm.

* * *

  
_While hunting a running rabbit, you may lose the one you already have._ \- Korean proverb

* * *

"Mr. Brooks? Someone's waiting for you," his assistant said as Barnaby walked by her desk. 

"Are they on the list?"

"No. They're not." 

"Tell them that I'm busy," Barnaby said.

He opened the door to his office, revealing someone's back as they sat on the rickety guest chair. Hochuel turned and looked up, nervously gripping a black and white porkpie hat in his hands. 

The assistant turned to Hochuel. "Mr. Brooks is - "

"I'm sorry," Barnaby said to his assistant. "I meant to say that I'm busy and for you to hold all my calls and appointments. I'm going to take this meeting." 

With a frown, the assistant left the room, closing the door behind them.

Barnaby sat at the corner of his desk, looking at Hochuel. Finally, he asked, "Why are you here?"

"I'm sorry I couldn't stay away. I think - I think I need to talk to you," Hochuel said. "You're the only one who might help me."

"What do you need help with?" Barnaby asked, ironically. "I only do special admissions here at the Academy."

Hochuel exhaled, shaking his head. "I didn't want you to think I don't understand what you did, Mr. Brooks. But fighting Ouroboros - it's made me realize that I don't belong. I never did. I don't want to be a hero on tv. I just want to help people."

"You don't have to," Barnaby said. "I was wrong to think that was the only way, the right way for you."

"I've been doing some research," Hochuel cleared his throat, "about Wild Tiger. And talking to Ben. And Dr. Saito. I'm not him. I'm not. I'm sorry." 

Softly, Barnaby said, "I know."

Suddenly, Hochuel was standing directly in front of Barnaby. "I can't be him. Even if I wanted to. Even for you." 

Barnaby swallowed hard. "I know. It's okay. I understand that. I see you as who you are, Hochuel." The words were soft.

"But I think he's a part of me, a little bit. And that part really misses you. I feel - " Hochuel's cheeks reddened. "I haven't known you for that long. You were my boss. My sister's still your biggest fan. You're - It's weird." He sighed, personally exasperated with himself. "I'm going to be weird about this. But - I feel things I shouldn't feel. I know things. I - I dream things."

Unable to hide his curiosity, Barnaby sat. "Like what?"

Taking this as an invitation, Hochuel said, "I've had weird dreams my whole life, on and off. I've never really thought about them, because everybody has weird dreams, right? Dreams where I chase stone colossus, or I'm really strong, or sometimes I get hurt. Then I met you. I recognized you."

Barnaby shivered.

Golden-brown eyes focused upon Barnaby. "I've been rescued by you. Did that really happen? With - with - him?"

Barnaby nodded.

Hochuel squared his shoulders, as if he was preparing for some kind of strenuous activity. "Did you - did you shoot him - me?"

Paling, Barnaby averted his eyes. He nodded. "How did you know?"

"I told you - the dreams. There's one where you shoot me, but I hear your voice. You're saying 'We did it!' and then 'shut up.' I felt - worried, sad. It's always just before I wake up."

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, what I did, and if I could take it back - " Barnaby raised haunted green eyes to Hochuel's.

"But waking up isn't painful. You've got to know that waking up is a good thing, too. Necessary, even. I - he - understands." Hochuel reached out to touch Barnaby's hand. 

"I couldn't save Kotetsu," Barnaby said, softly. "I wanted to. He was so important to me. He changed me. He saved me. And I never got to say anything to him. He was my partner and I never said how much I appreciated his infuriating - "

"I know," Hochuel said. He swallowed. "Because I kept dreaming about you and the dreams always felt happy. Until I met you, I always felt like I was missing something. I'm not missing that anymore." Diffidently, Hochuel asked, "Do you mind if I stay, here? With you?"

Barnaby froze, unable to answer coherently. Afraid to be wrong. Finally, looking back into Hochuel's intent gaze, he turned his hand over and gripped Hochuel's, tightly. "Stay. I don't want to miss anything more, either."

**Author's Note:**

> I used a few Buddhist concepts within this fic. (I'm not Buddist and not super familiar with the theology, but I have delineated some of my thoughts here. Most of the originating concepts came from wikipedia.)
> 
> The main one being that the process of change from one life to another is more of a 're-becoming' than a true reincarnation (that of a fixed soul that is reborn). In that light, I thought of Hochuel as a re-becoming and not a reincarnation.
> 
> Kotetsu potential death 1978\12\10  
> Hochuel birth 1980\02\17 (going by Buddhist belief about that life begins at conception or 49 days after upon formation of the third eye)
> 
> (I carried this fic around for almost two years (about 4/5ths done, in draft, on paper, on trips and overseas) before finally getting it together enough to finish. I hope you enjoyed.)


End file.
